


And One Thing He Didn't Need To

by JTxBojan



Series: Words [3]
Category: One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: "Words" series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTxBojan/pseuds/JTxBojan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And finally, one thing Harry didn't need to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And One Thing He Didn't Need To

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of 3 of the Words Series. Re-posted from my Tumblr.

You’re sitting on your couch, tapping a slow beat on the coffee table in front of you with your fingers.

You’ve just gotten back from your sister’s birthday party and you haven’t been arsed to change out of the black suit you’re wearing. _Your sister Gemma had forced you to wear it or else she would have denied you access to her house._

You’re nervous. You’re so fucking nervous that you can feel your stomach twist and turn inside of you, and at one point you actually fear you’re going to throw up.

It’s been two days since you last spoke to Louis. Two fucking days and you know for a fact that Louis’ plane landed at the airport over 25 minutes ago. 

You haven’t spoken to him yourself after you asked him to come home, but Liam has. And he told you when Louis’ plane would arrive. 

You run a hand through your hair. You have no idea what to do when he gets here. You have no idea what to say or how to act.

You start going through possible scenarios in your mind, but you’re interrupted by a knock on your apartment door.

_Shit, you weren’t expecting him to come straight to your place!_

You get off your couch and stumble your way over to the door.

You hesitate for a moment. _Are you having second thoughts? Is this not what you want? Is **he** not what you want? Was this all a mistake?_

You shake your head. You don’t want to have these thoughts! But you can’t help it. What if this is a mistake? What if this will ruin everything? What if…

You stop thinking about that when you remember he’s actually standing right outside your door. The least you can do is let him in. 

So you sigh, take a deep breath and open the door.

And you see him. 

His skin is darker. _He’s gotten a tan in Italy and it suits him_. His muscles are more toned. _He’s been working out. It looks amazing_. His hair has gotten highlights. _He looks younger_. Then you look into his eyes… They’re the exact same as when he left. Blue, deep and filled with so many emotions that it makes you _dizzy_ to look into them. _You love his eyes._

And with that, all previous thoughts of doubts disappear from your mind. All the thinking of: _‘This is a mistake.’_ And: _‘He’s not what I want.’_ Are replaced by: _‘How the fuck did I ever let him go?’_

You want to tell him you’re sorry. You want to tell him you love him. You want to tell him how much you’ve missed him. You want to jump. You want to dance. You want to sing. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to do all of these things.

But instead, you grab his hand, pull him inside, slam the door shut and then push him against it as your lips attach themselves onto his in a kiss that has been waiting to happen for _way too fucking long_ and you let your action do the talking for you.

When his lips part just a little bit, you let your tongue slide inside and you moan as it meets his for the very first time. 

His arms are now wrapped around your waist, holding your body close to his as the kiss deepens and gets more passionate. 

You can feel yourself getting hard and you can’t help but press your hips into his, feeling his own hardness rub against yours and you both moan at the contact.

You rock against his body, his own hips rolling to meet your thrusts as your tongues battle softly against each other. 

After what seems like _forever_ , you pull back and look at him. 

His eyes are closed and his lips slightly separated while his breathing has increased drastically. You can’t help but want _more_ when you look at him and you’re just about to take his hand and lead him into your bedroom when you remember.

_You have no experience with men whatsoever._

You freeze and stare at him with wide eyes.

His eyes open and the blue in them have been replaced by black as his pupils have dilated massively from lust and want and _need._

He looks at you. You’re biting your lower lip and your eyes are looking anywhere but at him. 

He knows that you want this, there is no way to fake the look of hunger on your face, but there is something making you _uncomfortable_. He can see it. You know he can. You just hope he won’t _get it_. 

Suddenly something occurs to him. He reaches up and gently cups your face in his hands, a gesture that is so intimate that it makes you want to squeal like a little girl. But you won’t, because you’re a _man_. 

“Harry, have you ever been with a man before?” He asks softly.

You swallow. _Hard_. You can’t say no, but you can’t lie to him either. _You know all too well how that turned out last time_. So you hesitate just a tad too long before two words unwillingly slips past your lips.

“Of course.”

You’re lying. He _knows_ you’re lying. You can see it in his eyes. For a moment, you’re afraid he’s going to leave because you’ve told him yet another lie, but instead, he looks into your eyes and speaks.

“Harry.” He says again, his tone demanding the whole truth, even as he moves his hand from your cheek to let his fingers softly trace your lips. “Tell me the complete truth. It won’t change what we do, just how we go about it.” He promises.

You close your eyes, and he’s afraid for moment that you’re going to lie again. But you won’t lie. _Not this time_. You’re done with lying.

Without opening your eyes, you confess, so softly that he has to strain to hear you. 

“I’ve kissed men twice when I was drunk, even groped around then, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.” You admit. When you’re done speaking, you lower your head.

He wraps his arms around you, and draws you close again, and then bends his head until his lips finds yours, and kisses you softly but unhesitatingly. He lets the kiss go on until you’re actively kissing him back. Then, with uncharacteristic tenderness he says: 

“Let’s take this in your bedroom, it’ll be more comfortable there.” And he reaches down and takes your hand. 

Leading you down the hallway towards your bedroom, he stops occasionally, just to drop a few kisses on your lips because he wants, no, _needs_ you to be consumed with need, too hungry for fulfilment to let your inexperience hamper your enjoyment. 

When you get to your bedroom, he leads you over to the bed. Reaching out, he slides your jacket from your shoulders, letting his hands glide over your back and chest. He then slides the tie loose, and pulls it over your head. 

When you reach out, to tug at his clothes, he pushes your arms back down, saying:

“Let me, Harry. Let me take care of everything. You just concentrate on feeling.” 

He seals your mouth with his own before you can offer any argument. 

As he kisses you, he pulls your shirt out from the waist of your pants, sliding one hand under the fabric, and letting it softly caress the taunt skin of your belly. 

When you reach up, wrapping a hand his hair and opening your mouth to allow his tongue entry, he begins to unbutton your shirt. When he has it open, exposing your chest, he pulls his head free from your grasp, breaking the kiss. He then gently pushes you back, until you sink down onto the bed, your legs bent and hanging over the side, your back lying against the covers, your shirt falling open, exposing your toned chest and stomach. 

He straddles your legs, and then bends, once again capturing your mouth with a kiss, although this one is harder, more demanding. When your hips involuntarily thrust up towards his crotch, he releases your mouth and begins to trail kisses down your throat, occasionally pausing to nibble and suck. 

Once you’re softly moaning with pleasure, he slides down far enough to allow himself to capture one of your now exposed nipples in his mouth. As he sucks and gently bites, his other hand reaches over to stroke and softly tease your other nipple. 

You writhe under him, having given yourself over to sensation only, no longer capable of speech. When the nub in his mouth is almost painfully erect, he releases it and moves his mouth over to the other one. Once both nipples are standing to attention, he reaches under you, and pulls you into a sitting position. 

Then in one quick move, he slides the shirt off of your body, tossing it to the side of the bed, then lips reattached to your neck, he lowers you back down onto the bed. At the base of your neck, he bites just hard enough to leave a mark, and says softy: 

“Mine.” _And you know there is no one else’s you’d rather be._

Extending his tongue, he begins to lick his way down the bare flesh, starting at the skin right below your chin, and ending at your belly button, pausing only to lave at the love mark and the already sensitive nipples. As he goes, he blows softly over the wet trail his tongue made, causing goose bumps to form along the way. 

When he gets to your belly button, he licks around the rim of it, and then slides his tongue into its recesses, moving his tongue in and out. When your hips are matching the rhythm of his tongue, he lifts himself completely off your body. 

Kneeling between your thighs, he pulls off your shoes and socks. Then, reaching up, he opens your belt and unfastens your pants button and zipper. Sliding his fingers under the waistband of the pants, he gives a quick pull, removing trousers and boxer briefs all at the same time. Before you can even react, he bends forward, engulfing your swollen and heavy cock in his mouth, causing you to scream in a combination of surprise and pleasure, _because you sure as hell weren’t expecting that_ , your hands scrabbling against the bed, seeking purchase, as he showers attention on your dick. 

When he can tell you’re close, he lifts his mouth off of you long enough to say:

“I want you to come now, Harry.” 

Then he lowers his head back down onto your continuously leaking shaft. He lowers one hand and pumps on the base of your cock, while his mouth concentrates on its sensitive head. Unable to stave off your orgasm any longer, you shout your release, thrusting one last time into his mouth, as your body seems to shatter. 

He swallows it all, his mouth remaining enclosed around you, until he can feel the shuddering begin to subside. Then he removes his mouth and crawls back up your body, until he can capture your mouth again in a bruising kiss.

You’re finding it hard to reconnect with reality. Your breathing is ragged, and the power of your orgasm has left you seeing only thousands of swirling red dots. You feel the weight of Louis’ body press down on you again, and you’re aware that he is kissing you, and that you’re answering that kiss. 

You can taste something slightly bitter and salty on his lips, and realize it must be your own cum. You run your tongue around the inside of his mouth, curious to explore the new flavour, surprised that you don’t find it unpleasant. When he says: 

“Let’s get you up on the bed properly.” You’re able to help shift your body, pushing it back and up on the bed, turning until your head rests on a pillow and your legs are stretched out in front of you. You feel the mattress beside you give, and vaguely saw Louis stretch out next to you, and then you feel arms encircle you, pulling your body in tight, and you allow your eyes to close. 

Once your head is nestled onto Louis’ shoulder, you realize that he is still wearing his shirt, having been so intent on pleasuring you that he hadn’t even taken the time to undress. _Your heart is dancing in your chest at that._

Taking a couple of long, steadying breaths, you open your eyes, and force your mouth to comply with your wishes. 

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You manage to choke out.

“I don’t intend to stay this way for long.” He answers softly. 

He shifts your boneless body enough to recapture your mouth, this time pressing a long, soft, drugging kiss on it. The kiss goes on and on, until it’s you who deepens it, replacing the soft nibbles with a harder, more demanding edge. 

When you reach over and begin to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, he complies. 

Toeing off his shoes, he lets them drop off the end of the bed, and then reaches down to open his trousers. You have succeeded in opening his shirt, and you moan in frustration when you discover the t-shirt underneath. 

Mirroring the way he had undressed you earlier, Louis sits up and pulls the t-shirt, along with the outer shirt, off of his body in one fluid motion. Then, lifting his rear off the bed, he slides off his boxers, pants and socks. 

You have stopped helping, and you’re now contenting yourself with just watching while you lay on your side, your appreciation for what is being revealed reflected on your face.

You let your eyes wander up and down Louis’ body, moaning as you see the hard, toned muscles on his body. You pause when you get to his cock, erect and red, weeping slightly for release. You’re slightly surprised when your own cock gives a small, answering twitch. Your eyes travels back up to his face, and you see that he is just watching you, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes dark with desire. 

“Tell me what you want, Harry.” He says.

“You. All of you.” You say back, your voice stronger than you expected, your cock becoming half erect.

That seems to be what Louis had been waiting for, because as soon as you have spoken, he reaches over and pushes you onto your back again and then covers your entire body with his own length.

Resting his elbows on the pillow on either side of your head, his hands grasps your face, holding it still as he locks your mouths together once again, in a hot, wet kiss. Your hands begins their own exploration, running up and down his back, grazing over his ass, marvelling at the play of soft skin over firm muscle. 

It is so different from the gentle curves and yielding flesh of a woman, but no less erotic. Feeling emboldened, you rock your hips, and shiver as hard flesh rubs into hard flesh. 

Louis is now feasting on his favourite hot spot, the top of your neck, right below your ear. You can feel the need behind the kisses and bites, and you know you will have a mark there in the morning, but you don’t even care about that now. 

You slide one hand between your bodies, letting your fingers migrate to his nipples, tracing a finger around the pink areolas and then pinching lightly, pleased when he moans in response. You thrust your hips back up into him, wanting to feel the glide of slick skin against slick skin again. Your hands reaches down to his ass, pushing down, wanting to deepen the contact between your two bodies. 

He pulls back, until he’s sitting up, straddling your hips. He reaches around and disengages your hands, pressing them gently down into the mattress.

“I want to be inside you.” He says, his eyes fixed on yours. The sentence is part question and part statement of fact, _and you feel your head is about to explode._

You swallow, not knowing what to say. Settling for action, you spread your legs, offering yourself to Louis, who groans his understanding. Bending down once more, he kisses you deeply, then whispers: “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” 

Then he slides down between your open thighs, and pushes himself to the side of the bed. He gets off the bed and disappears into the hallway, emerging seconds later, having retrieved lube from one of his bags. He then crawls back between your legs, where he kneels, placing the object next to your left hip. Reaching over, he pushes your knees up and apart a bit more, until your feet are planted on the bed, then he opens the bottle of lube, coating the fingers on his right hand liberally. Leaning back down, he kisses you and whispers:

“If you want me to stop at any time, just say the words. There are lots of other things we can do.” He promises. 

You reach up and touch Louis’ face. 

“I want you.” You say huskily, chasing your words with an answering kiss of your own.

Louis moves back some, so that he can take your nipple back into his mouth. When you arch your back in response, he reaches down with his lube covered hand and gently begins to circle your tight entrance, lightly pushing just one fingertip in occasionally, as he lubricates the area. 

When you begin to softly rock your hips in response, he slides his finger in deeper. As you still, he encourages gently: 

“Breathe Harry.”

He continues the oral assault on your chest, allowing you time to adjust to the invasion by his finger. Once he feels the muscles relax slightly, he begins to move the finger in and out, thrusting just a little deeper with every inward push. When you seem to have fully accepted the first finger, he adds another, again edging it in slowly, giving you time to adjust. 

Wiggling his fingers slightly, he finally finds what he was looking for, and he rubs his index finger gently across your prostrate, causing you to gasp with pleasure. His left hand encircles your cock, gently squeezing and pulling, as he continues to slowly open you up, alternating between gentle thrusts, scissoring his fingers, and massaging your prostrate. Another finger is added, and finally you’re panting, and moaning: “ _Please, please._ ” over and over again, although he’s fairly sure you’re not even aware of what you’re requesting. 

Finally Louis can’t deny his own need any longer, and he pulls his fingers out. He glances up and looks at you, and you’re softly whimpering over the loss of contact, your eyes clamped closed, and your head rolling back and forth on the pillow in distress. 

‘ _God, he's beautiful._ ’ Louis thinks as he kneels between your legs. Reaching down, he lifts your legs up on to his shoulders, and pulls a pillow from the head of the bed, positioning it under your hips. 

Lining himself up, he says: 

“Look at me, Harry.” 

He holds still until you open glazed eyes to look at him. Once he knows you’re focused on him, he pushes in gently, pausing when your eyes widen, giving you a chance to adjust. When you nod, he pushes again, sinking in a little deeper, watching you for signs of true pain. Seeing none, he continues his slow progress, reaching back down to stroke your flagging hard on. 

Realizing that you’re once again holding your breath, he softly encourages you to relax and breathe. When he’s fully seated, he stops, allowing you time to get used to the sensation, all the while continuing to lavish attention to your cock. Finally, you draw in another shaky breath, and whimper: “Move, please.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. Bending down to kiss you once, he then begins to push in and pull out carefully. He can feel your body relax around him, accepting his girth, and he increases his speed and the strength of the thrusts slightly. 

Your hands are clawing at the sheets in pleasure now, your eyes closed once more, and Louis can’t restrain himself anymore. His hand tightens around you, and the gentle squeezing and pulling on your cock becomes harder and more purposeful. His thrusts begin to match the actions of his hand, and his own moans mix with the mewling sounds that you’re making. 

You open your eyes, seeking out Louis’ just before you come, hot and wet all over your stomach and Louis’ hand. He lifts his hand to his own mouth and licks your cum off his fingers, causing you to shudder, your muscles clamping down even harder on his cock. 

That was all it took, and Louis felt himself release, wave after wave of pleasure wracking his body as he empties himself inside of you. His cum feels warm and delicious inside of you and you moan at the feeling. 

Thoroughly spent, he collapses down on top of you, sweaty chest pressed onto sweaty chest, as he kisses your bruised lips. After catching his breath, he gently eases out of you and says: 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He climbs off the bed and goes to the bathroom to dampen a cloth with warm water and grab a towel. Bringing them back to the bed, he carefully cleans off both himself and you, throwing the towels to the floor when he’s done. Then lying back down beside you, he wraps his arms around your limp body, drawing you close, dropping gentle kisses on your jaw and neck. 

You eventually remember how to move your arms, and you answer Louis’ embrace by sliding an arm around his waist, and snuggling closer.

You look up into his eyes, seeing a mix of happiness, relief and love swirling around in those beautiful eyes you fell in love with a long time ago.

When he looks at you, a small smile on his lips, you curse yourself for being such a stubborn cunt and not realizing that this man, this beautiful man, is all you will ever want and need.

“Stop hating yourself for not telling me sooner.”

His voice takes you by surprise and your eyes widen as you look at him.

“What?”

“You’re cursing yourself for not telling me how you felt sooner. Stop it.”

You bite your lip, wondering how the hell he could tell what you were thinking by just looking at you.

“I can’t…” You whisper.

“You can and you will! Harry, it was as much my fault as it was yours. I could’ve said something too, you know.”

You sigh and drop your gaze from his eyes to his chest.

“I know that, but… But I was a stubborn cunt, Louis. I made you fucking move to Rome!” 

“Hey!” He says, grabbing a hold of your face with both hands, flipping you onto your back and lying down on top of you.

“I moved because I was hurt, Harry. I won’t say I didn’t because I won’t lie to you. But I moved because I thought it would be best! I moved because of me, Harry. Not because of you. And I don’t ever want you to think otherwise!”

You bite your lip again and avoid his gaze.

“Harry…” He says, running his left thumb over your cheek. “Look at me.”

You look at him.

“You might have gotten me onto the idea of moving, yes. But you did bring me home too.”

His words are so honest. So true and so filled with love and adoration that it makes you want to kiss his fucking mind out. 

So you do.

You flip him on to his back and lay on top of him, attacking his lips with your own in a kiss that contains only of _love, passion, want, need_ and _utter desperation_ to let him know that _you love him._

When you finally release his lips, you look deep into his eyes and you want to say _so much_ , but you just _can’t find the right words_ to actually do so, so you just look at him, praying to God or whoever the hell controls these things that _he understands_.

A small smile spreads across his lips and he lets one of his hands reach up to touch your face.

“I know, Harry. I know.”

Then he leans up to kiss you again and all thoughts disappear from your mind as all you can focus on are his lips, his hands, _his body_ pressed against your own and how _fucking right_ it feels.

_**And you realize that sometimes, you really don’t need to say anything, because sometimes, words aren’t needed.** _


End file.
